Of Fish, Worms and Children
by Nuin'arien
Summary: Éowyn and the boys go fishing and some interesting insights are revealed. Faramir also makes an appearance.


**Disclaimer:** All things Lord of the Rings are due to the genius of the late JRR Tolkien and belong to his heirs and his estate. The fiction writer is only intellectually enriched by his masterpieces, she does not profit monetarily from them.

I hope you enjoy this short tale. As always, I appreciate your comments and suggestions immensely!

-Nuingaríen

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One quiet afternoon in the fair land of Ithilien, the Lady of Emyn Arnen and her two sons went fishing near their home. The boys had been at the activity for about half an hour when the fish finally start biting.

"Momma, look!" Rochon cried in glee, pointing to his older brother Elboron. Éowyn looked up from her book to the sight of her firstborn holding his arm high, a large fish dangling from a string in his tightly clenched fist.

"That is a large catch, Boron, congratulations!" Éowyn beamed at the boys.

"I'll go show Ada!" Elboron ran to the house with his catch clutched in both hands.

Éowyn rose from her comfortable spot in the shade to join her second child on the river bank. "How fare you, Rochon?"

"Not very good." The boy said sadly. "The fishes don't like my bait, Momma."

Éowyn sat beside him on the cool grass. "Why don't they like your bait?"

"It's not as tasty as Boron's. His is better."

"Why would your brother's bait taste better than yours, Rochon?" Éowyn asked.

"His is fresh, mine is old."

"How can you tell that his is fresh and yours is old?" Éowyn was puzzled.

"He just got it from the ground over there and mine came from the kitchen." When a look of shock crossed his mother's face, he suddenly ducked his head. "I'm sorry, Momma, I should have asked cook for it—but I just took it."

Éowyn was horrified but not for the reason her son thought. "Rochon, do you mean there are worms in our kitchen?"

Rochon now looked just as horrified as Éowyn. "No, Naneth! It was bread that I took from the kitchen."

Éowyn breathed a sigh of relief then started laughing. "Oh my dear boy, you had me worried our kitchens were not as clean as I always believed them to be." She turned serious again. "But why would you use bread for your bait and not a worm?"

Large grey eyes stared into Éowyn's own dark grey ones. "It hurts the worms, Momma. I don't want to hurt the worms."

Éowyn was surprised that the boy held such feelings toward the small creatures. She pressed him further. "But don't the fish need to feed, Rochon?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "But the fish can find them on their own, Momma. It's not fair to the worms who are on land to bring them to the fish—the fishes are so much bigger and faster than them—they don't need my help."

"I see."

"Am I wrong, Momma? Am I wrong to feel sorry for worms?"

Éowyn drew Rochon to her side and kissed his dear head. "Nay, min leof, I am glad that you believe in something so much that you would rather lose your catch than tempt them with tasty worms." She turned his head so that they were again eye to eye. "I am proud of you, Rochon, very proud." Rochon's elated gap-toothed smile was mirrored by his mother's loving one. "What say you we find other bait that may be just as tasty for the fish but something better than bread?" Mother and son walked hand in hand back home to look for alternative bait.

ooOoo

That evening, after a delicious supper of fresh fish which the boys had caught—with various forms of inanimate bait, Éowyn related the events of the day to her husband. When she told him of her conversation with their second son, Faramir was just as surprised and pleased as she at the young boy's empathy for the worms.

"He reminds me of you, Faramir."

"For being lovable and adorable?" He teased.

Éowyn laughed. "Well that _and _he has a thoughtfulness and maturity beyond his years that clearly marks him as your son if nothing else. I imagine you were much like him as a child, am I not right?"

Faramir laughed. "You, my dear, are insightful as always. I was a relatively quiet child, certainly not as loud and rambunctious as Elboron, but as for being mature," he shrugged, "I cannot say."

Éowyn was amused at his description of their eldest. "'Loud and rambunctious' are apt terms for Elboron but I do love how he looks after Rochon. He is always mindful and protective when it comes to his brother."

"I can see Boromir in Elboron at times." Faramir said thoughtfully then he suddenly grinned. "We have our own Boromir, we have a junior version of myself—I wonder when we'll have your smaller version, Éowyn?" His smile was suggestive.

Éowyn blushed and laughed. Drawing close to her husband, she said, "be careful what you wish for, beloved, or we may have more on our hands than we can handle and—" whatever she was going to say next was lost because Faramir suddenly kissed her, proving that _he _thought they could handle whatever junior versions of themselves they might be blessed with.

_end_

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**A/N**

This story is joyfully dedicated to Riel and her twin boys who, very much like Rochon and the author, care for worms and "don't want them to get step on or run over."

-Nuingaríen


End file.
